Ragnarok
by Azurelitestar
Summary: "Celty holds up her PDA as words appear in rapid succession across the screen. [You're such an idiot.]" / 21 plus 1 scenes, with a twist. For a friend's 21st. Spoilers for the novels.


He's peeking from the edge of the door and watching his father sterilise a scalpel when the neck silently turns to him, the trail of smoke slithering away from the spotlight and melting into the surrounding darkness of the basement. The boy stifles a yelp at the sudden attention, but doesn't duck behind the wall or scurry back to his room, simply keeping still and his eyes glued to the scene unraveling before him.

The neck seems to tilt a little at that, and he can feel the edges of his lips curl up slightly as he fidgets and pushes his large glasses up the bridge of his nose before opening his palm wide and giving it a wave.

"Are you up there, Shinra?" The boy stiffens, the smile falling off his face instantly. He forces himself to tear his eyes away from the naked body on the metal table and towards the owner of the voice that just called out to him. "Come here," his father beckons.

Shinra's spectacles bounce up and down as he trots down the stairs, bringing his arms open and wide as if he's flying an imaginary plane and bringing it into its descent.

Father nods approvingly, and hands him a pair of latex gloves that Shinra recognises as his personal own, customised to the size of his hands, as well as a disposable gown and surgical mask. Shinra understands, and takes and puts them on, clumsily, but faster than the previous time he had been caught sneaking and allowed into the basement.

"Just like we always do, my boy," Father says, pointing to the subject for today's procedure. "Show me where to open her up."

Shinra steps closer towards the table, eyes traveling along the subject's body from the tip of her toes to the stem of her neck. It's still tilted in his direction, almost welcoming, and Shinra, unable to look away, places his hand atop her chest, and takes his time to slide it downward before stopping at where he can feel the navel. Somewhere in his heart he thinks he's wishing he isn't wearing gloves at the moment.

The wisp of smoke trembles faintly, like a flickering candle in the wind. Shinra retracts his hand and sends the headless body an apologetic gaze. He can hear Father grunting behind him.

"No, no, no. When you've found a sweet spot, you shouldn't let go of it," Father reprimands nonchalantly, gently grabbing ahold of Shinra's hand. The boy gives a quiet squeak as his father guides him back to the deathly pale skin and slides the handle of the scalpel in his other hand.

"Um, Father, what—"

"No need to fear, Shinra, Papa's here," his father says. "Just doing what a model parent's supposed to: leaving the best to his kid."

Shinra doesn't try to argue that, and simply spares the tool in his hand a glance before giving his full attention back to the black smoke swirling from the bare neck. He doesn't want to tell his father how wrong he was in believing him to be scared, when that's not the reason why he's shaking at all. Neither does he want to tell his father how right he was in claiming this to be the best, because he can't think of anything or anybody else that can rob him of his breath like this.

With his father's hand around his own, the little boy makes a clean incision across the body's stomach, and watches in amazement as the being writhes and twists around the table and shadows spill out of the cut.

In that moment he feels like he's been whisked away into Neverland, and he doesn't want to leave anytime soon.

°•○ ○•°

"If you're here to ask me to drop by your house so that you can slice me up... _again_...I'm just gonna not say anything to you."

"First of all, I'm not going to 'slice' you up. It's always more interesting to study whole organs and systems than shreds of them first. Besides, I'm more interested in you as a whole, and not your individual bits and pieces. And, secondly, I'm not here to ask you to drop by my apartment, for once."

The occupant of the hospital bed raises a brow, one of the few parts of his body that he is able to move in his current condition. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm aware that it's not exactly convenient for you to move around, the way you are right now. So, I'm wondering if it's okay to take a blood sample or two that I can run some tests on instead."

"...How old are you again?"

"Uh, I'm nine? Come on, Shizuo-kun, we're in the same grade! Was there a need for you ask?"

"Just checking," Shizuo murmurs, casting a look full of doubt and apprehension on his eccentric classmate.

Shinra laughs, and it's bubbly and bright. If not for the fact that he's been bugging Shizuo about things like experiments and cutting people up he'd be mistaken as a normal kid showing pure, innocent excitement about his hobbies.

"You don't trust in my abilities, then? I'll have you know, I've been helping my father out for as long as I can remember. Father says I'm a natutal. A little bloodwork's nothing to me."

"It's not your abilities I'm worried about," Shizuo mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"Well whatever it is, please agree to it anyway. I really want to know what's going on with your body, and I can't do that if there's nothing for me to study. At least give me something to work on?"

"No."

"Don't you want to know more about it yourself? I can help you with that if you just let me."

"No."

"Come on, pretty please? I promise it won't hurt."

Shizuo meets his eyes, then, before he looks away, at the sling around his arm and the blanket covering the casts around his legs. "...You can't hurt me any more than I already did myself," he says, his voice quiet even to his own ears.

But Shinra manages to catch that, somehow, and when his sunny smile turns warm and understanding while his hand gently lands on Shizuo's bandaged own, Shizuo can't help but look at his classmate once more.

"Then let's figure it out together. How to make sure you'll never hurt yourself ever again."

Shizuo stares at him for a little longer than he would've liked before returning his gaze to the blanket as he declines the offer. Shinra doesn't ask again, and when Shizuo can see in his peripheral vision his weirdo of a classmate still smiling like there's nothing in the world that can upset him Shizuo almost feels like taking his words back.

°•○ ○•°

Shinra was telling him off. They were arguing. Nakura was stumbling in, holding a knife. Shinra's lying on the ground. Nakura was rushing towards him, asking for his money back, and he was going to hit back and defend himself with a chair. Shinra was jumping in between them— Actually he ought to be commending himself for being able to remain calm enough to not only talk Nakura down but also pick the chair up and prepare to fight back in the face of a clumsy boy with a knife, despite having no fighting experience himself. A _knife._ And Nakura still said he didn't mean to use it for anything other than to scare him? Humans really say the funniest things at times, don't they? It's not like there aren't better ways to threaten him, though he will admit he hadn't been expecting a knife so he should at least give Nakura some credit for that—

Shinra's lying on the ground.

"Hold on I'll call the ambulance—"

"Wait," Shinra gasps out, pressing both hands against his offended side. "Don't...call..."

"What?"

"Up there... First aid box... Duct tape... I can...use it to stop the bleeding..."

In the face of his classmate who is able to keep on smiling and give clear instructions like that even as he is spilling blood all over the floor, Izaya can only obey.

Shinra laughs as he wraps himself up.

"Thank goodness...he missed my organs... So it's not too bad...ugh..."

"...Should you even be speaking at this point?" Izaya says, though he's not expecting an answer.

"Haha it's fine...like I said... Any deeper and then...we'd be talking—ack!"

"Oi, oi, don't push your luck."

Shinra is breaking into a series of coughs, but the smile never leaves his face.

"Well even if that happens...it'll still be worth it..."

"Huh?"

"After all word of this deed...of mine will surely...reach my loved one's ears... I'm sure it'll...make her proud... Ahh ouch ouch ouch," Shinra chuckles, his brow twitching as he resists a wince while applying more pressure on the wound.

In contrast, Izaya can only watch. Watch as this lousy excuse of a club president jump in between him and Nakura and cry out when he took the full brunt of the assault; this infuriating, inexplicable human being lay on the ground, bleeding out and yet still smiling and cracking jokes with a stab wound to his side, appearing to be in bliss simply at the thought of impressing his loved one.

"...Hey, Shinra."

"Ow ow ow what is it?"

Shinra groans – almost whines – as he rubs against the duct tape covering the wound.

Izaya meets his eyes. "What you did earlier... You said so yourself that you could've died from it, right?"

"Hmm did I? All I said was...that it was a good thing Nakura-kun missed the vital organs."

Izaya then asks, "Was it really worth that risk?"

"What do you—hiss—mean?"

"Well, if you had really died doing that, you wouldn't have been able to see your loved one anymore."

Shinra falls silent for a couple of seconds before he cries out in an outburst but is stopped by the pain erupting from his side.

"Ahhhh! You're right—ow ow ow ow...!"

"...What, so you didn't consider that?" Izaya says, close to sounding exasperated. "You just jumped in without thinking what could've happened if you'd really died?"

"Hey it's not...not like I was given that much time to think it through," Shinra protests weakly. "All I thought about...was how happy my actions can make my loved one."

 _...What?_

Izaya nearly retorts back.

"Yeah," Shinra breathes, as though he read Izaya's mind. "In fact if...given another chance at something like this...I'd probably just do it again. Even if I were to die that way...at least I'd have left a good impression on my loved one doing so, heh."

"..."

"But I guess that means I...can't forgive Nakura-kun. He almost...took me away from my loved one, after all... Ouch ouch ow ow..."

"...I see."

Izaya takes a deep breath, which he later releases slowly.

And the edges of his lips curl into a smile that's as twisted as the current state of his own emotions.

"...Hey, Shinra. Could you..."

°•○ ○•°

"Hmm? Ahh, there you are, there you are. I've been looking all over for you, Shizuo-kun. Where've you been this entire morning?"

"...You've got guts, talkin' to me after what happened yesterday."

"Now don't be like that, Shizuo-kun. I was sincere in introducing Orihara-kun to you, I really thought you two would make great friends!"

The former brunet – now blond – is not ashamed to snort in response to that.

"Friends? With a disgusting flea like that?"

"Who's the flea? Oh, you mean Orihara-kun?"

"Is there any other flea?" Shizuo asks back dryly.

Shinra only smiles that frustrating, perpetual smile of his and takes up the space next to his former classmate from elementary school, leaning against the corridor wall with both hands in his pockets. Shizuo is silent, and Shinra takes that as consent to his presence at the moment, in spite of what the blond said a moment ago.

"So," Shinra tries again, "you really do find Orihara-kun disgusting?"

"I don't even want to talk about him."

"Dare I ask why?"

Shizuo doesn't hesitate. "Because he's the kind of person who'd make a mess of everything and pretend it has nothing to do with him. People like him piss me off the most."

"Ahh." Shinra nods in understanding. "So Shizuo-kun doesn't like people who are dishonest."

"Yeah, so stop asking me to get all buddy-buddy with that flea. I don't know why you think we'd make good friends, but we won't. Got it?"

"I can see that," Shinra replies, chuckling. "Well, I won't bother you about Orihara-kun anymore if you don't want to talk about him, but, Shizuo-kun you do realise that I'm a dishonest person too, and you're friends with me aren't you?"

"At least you're honest about it. Otherwise I would've sent you flying ages ago."

"Ahaha, now that's a mental image I'd rather not be having."

For a split second, Shizuo is still, frozen as he casts a sideway glance at the person standing next to him. Shinra appears to have not noticed, and doesn't seem to have realised how the words he just said so casually sounded to Shizuo, but then again it's never easy to tell with someone like him.

Silence reigns for the next minute or so, all the other students making sure to stay a distance away, Shinra being all smiles and no cheery laughter or chuckles, and Shizuo not knowing what else to say. The time they have left from their lunch period is ticking away just as quietly, like grabbing a fistful of sand only for it to slip through the openings between his fingers, and Shizuo almost attempts to use this as a reason to leave the conversation as it is when Shinra manages to speak before he does.

"I'm glad," is what he says. Shizuo blinks, and Shinra continues, as though he's seen through the mild confusion, "Shizuo-kun thinks that highly of me. It makes me glad. After all, a day longer being in your good books is a day longer I can spend together with my loved one, and under such circumstances that is all I ask for."

Shizuo blinks once again, but opts to remain silent.

"That is why, I want you to understand this, Shizuo-kun." With both hands folded behind his back, the bespectacled high schooler turns towards Shizuo, the smile that's supposedly attached to his face for all eternity melting into a picture of soft melancholy. "See, I have someone I love and hold dear to my heart very, very much, and I would do anything in order to stay close to her. Even if it means having to deceive and hurt her provided that's the only way to make her stay, I would do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked. That's the sort of person I really am."

"...I don't really get why you're telling me all this, but," Shizuo pauses, scratching the back of his head. "Well, if you're going to hurt her to make her stay, then is that really...love?"

The word tastes like a thoroughly chewed piece of gum that one can't help but spit out.

Shinra's smile widens. "There are many kinds of love, Shizuo-kun. The kind I'm offering may be cruel and selfish...but if the person I love so much can return these feelings of mine despite knowing that, then I don't mind becoming this way for her. It's a dishonest way of showing my most honest feelings, wouldn't you agree?"

"I really have no idea," Shizuo says, itching to leave. The earlier silence suddenly seems that much preferable now compared to the way the conversation is going.

"But say if someday, I do something I know my beloved wouldn't like – heck, she might just hate me for it, yet I'll do it anyway if it means keeping her with me." Shinra places a finger on his chin, a seemingly innocent and contemplative expression falling into place. "I wonder, what would you do, Shizuo-kun?"

"Huh..."

"What would you do, Shizuo-kun?" Shinra repeats himself, but it isn't because he thinks Shizuo doesn't understand or doesn't manage to catch the question; Shizuo knows that much.

And it's for that same reason that when his only friend from elementary school turns and gives him a somewhat expectant look, Shizuo can only clench his fists behind his back and answer:

"...If that happens," Shizuo pauses, looking Shinra straight in the eye, "then I'll send you flying. No question about it."

The smile that Shinra sends his way is almost blinding. "It's a promise, then."

Shizuo can only wish it isn't.

°•○ ○•°

"...I'm sorry, I think I just heard you showing actual concern for other people. Can you repeat what you said?"

Shinra rests his hands on his waist, looking less than pleased. "You're just out to embarrass me, aren't you?"

Izaya doesn't bother to mask the amused chuckle that accompanies his reply. "Oh, so even you can be embarrassed? I'm actually surprised."

"Ha ha, very funny, Izaya," Shinra says, almost sounding weary. The tone of his voice, however, is in direct contrast with the bright smile on his face. "Anyway I was completely serious when I said I don't want to lose either of you. If you keep this up, I might just have to witness two of my friends killing each other. Can you imagine the amount of trouble that will cause me?"

"We're your only friends," Izaya isn't ashamed to point out. Then, as if to deflect whatever else Shinra said, he continues, "Though I must admit, I have no idea why you're associating yourself with that monster and calling him a friend."

"Just because somebody can get knocked down by a truck and still be able to get up on his feet like nothing happened doesn't mean he's a monster, Orihara-kun."

"Uh-huh," Izaya says with a playful lilt, intentional sarcasm sharpening the edges of his voice. He picks his personal fork up, and attempts to balance it on one finger. "So I assume you'll still think of him as human even if nothing in the world can kill him?"

Shinra's smile widens slightly. "I never said that I think of Shizuo-kun as human, Orihara-kun."

Izaya shrugs and lets the fork fall into his grip. "Well, whatever you think of him as, you can't deny that the body he has is anything but human."

"Oh? So you're admitting that you believe his mind to be that of a human's, at least?"

"I never said that," Izaya retorts, poking through the cherry tomato in his homemade salad. He sees Shinra trying to sneak a piece of lettuce, and appears to let him before moving the bento box away at the last split second. "All I'm saying is, with a body like that Shizu-chan probably can't die from things that are normally fatal to humans. Someone like him doesn't have to worry about getting stabbed or trucks knocking him down, because there's no way he'd die from that. Which means, Shinra," Izaya stops for a moment to give his rooftop companion a smile, "there's no need for you to worry either."

"Well, I wonder about that."

The rather quick disagreement has Izaya a little surprised, which he's careful not to show. He almost asks for an elaboration, and Shinra gives it before Izaya even opens his mouth.

"It's true that Shizuo-kun can't die from normally fatal wounds, but there's a reason for that. See, because of the strain that strength of his puts on himself, Shizuo-kun's body has no choice but to keep adapting to it until it's no longer falling apart into pieces when he's using his power. You probably can't believe it, but when Shizuo-kun was in elementary school the hospital was like his second home. Now that I think about it, it became like a second home to me too, since I visited him so often."

Here Shinra pauses momentarily, and Izaya doesn't need to figure out why as he notices a finger inching towards his salad. With an unimpressed frown, the raven closes the lid and sets the box to his left where Shinra can't reach from where he's sitting. The brunet doesn't seem to appreciate the gesture very much.

"So, yes, in a way I agree with you," Shinra continues, giving Izaya a bland look. "But does that mean Shizuo-kun can't die from or be killed by other means? To be honest, it's pretty hard to say. For all we know, you might just be able to figure something out one day, if your disdain for Shizuo-kun goes that far. Well, unless he kills you first, which frankly speaking isn't all that unlikely."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?" Izaya wonders.

"Can't it be both?" Shinra says with a laugh.

"An insult, then."

Despite that, Izaya's smile doesn't falter. Instead, he sounds as though he's proud to have received such words from his former biology club president.

"In any case, we've established that Heiwajima Shizuo can't die like normal humans can. And that alone already sets him apart from other human beings, no? Can you really say with confidence that people won't view him as a monster knowing that?"

"Of course I can't. After all, I can't speak for how other people feel about him." Shinra folds his arms, and lowers his head as he gives a thoughtful hum. "But... I suppose there are more people who think of him as non-human than people who don't, even without taking that into account. ...Actually now that I think about it, that's probably why no matter how he might die someday, it'll always be considered unnatural."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean, he's already made quite a big name for himself, hasn't he? So in the eyes of many, he's kind of like an urban legend, don't you think?"

For the most part, Izaya doesn't say anything as he rests his chin on his hand, with the exception of a little "hmm" that Shinra interprets as a cue for him to continue.

"Now let's say, he really does die, say, from natural causes like old age or something," Shinra suggests, looking and sounding a tad bit too cheery at the hypothetical situation of a close friend dying. "Do you think people would suddenly stop talking about him...or would his name be spoken like he was never really gone in the first place, continuing to live on in the minds and hearts of the populace?"

"...You can't be serious," Izaya mutters.

Shinra simply nods his head with child-like enthusiasm, and Izaya's smile turns wry and bitter at that.

"And here I thought you don't think of that friend of yours as a monster."

"You're right, I don't."

"Hm...?"

As the murmur departs from Izaya's lips, the cool spring breeze brushes against his hair, bringing along with it the faint scent of cherry blossoms in bloom. Shinra is looking at him intently, and before long he's chuckling as he holds up a fresh piece of lettuce. It trembles lightly.

"That's exactly the point I'm trying to make."

°•○ ○•°

It's close to midnight when she receives a text out of the blue, notifying her about an important job that requires her immediate presence. And so, with movements as graceful as a swan, she steps out of the way as her flatmate attempts to charge into her, and picks a bright yellow helmet up from the dinner table. She places it over her bare neck and adjusts it until no more smoke is leaking into her surroundings.

"Must you really go right now? Can't it wait just a little longer?" her flatmate whines.

The woman shakes her arm, and an electronic device that's shaped like a phone slides into her hand.

[Is that something you would say if there's a call asking for medical attention?]

"Urk... When you put it that way..."

At his grumbling, the woman nods and returns her PDA into the shadow of her sleeve. In spite of that, however, the bespectacled brunet – initially slumped over the sofa like a deflated balloon – suddenly springs to life when the woman starts heading for the main entrance.

"Wait wait wait, at least let me give you a goodbye kiss—?!"

She leaves.

As the woman clad in nothing but black closes the door and gate behind her, she shakes her head, and her shoulders slump as though she is heaving a sigh. Then, realising that she hasn't a moment to lose, she sprints towards a black motorbike leaning against the wall. She steadies it, lithely takes a seat, and makes two turns of the handle on her right, letting the engines neigh.

Then, she speeds off into the night.

Against the relatively dark background of the city at this hour of the day, the woman and her bike blend in seamlessly, appearing like nocturnal creatures that have been swallowed and concealed by the environment around them. Only, neither of them is out on a hunt, and neither are they even a part of this side of the world.

Celty Sturluson is not a human being. She is a supernatural being that is capable of manipulating shadows, and wields a scythe made from darkness. The clothes that she is wearing are made from those very same shadows. And, she does not even have a head attached to her body.

Celty Sturluson is a Dullahan, a faerie said to have a rather respectable standing amongst those in the Unseelie Court. Rumours and myths also speak of the Dullahan as a harbinger of death, traveling across the country of Ireland on her headless horse in search of the people who have been fated to die soon. She would look for their households, and splash blood all over the doors as a sign of their imminent death that is certain to come upon them.

However, Celty herself does not know if such tales are true, for she has been grossly severed from her head; the head which contains all her memories of her past life before coming to Ikebukuro with her chariot Shooter, who has taken the form of the motorcycle she is currently riding.

Since then she has appeared in Ikebukuro and is known among its people as an urban legend. Some call her the Black Bike, after the motorcycle she always appears riding on, while others who are slightly more aware of her true nature call her the Headless Rider. Those she knows personally call her by her name, though she must admit that such people are few and far in-between.

And then there those who call her by yet another different form of address.

"Hey, Courier-san. Glad to see you coming here on such short notice, as usual."

A man who is similarly dressed in dark clothing greets her, wearing a sly smile on his face. Right below his feet and close to the edge of the rooftop are two suitcases, one green and the other a bright pink, large enough to fit a human body each.

Celty holds her PDA up.

[How long are you going to keep doing this sick hobby of yours? I'm not exactly as free as you believe me to be, I do have other tasks to attend to, you know.]

"Relax, Courier-san. This will be the last time, I assure you."

Then, as if to show his sincerity, the black-haired man with sharp auburn eyes casually hops off the luggage, and takes a quick glance at the base of the building before giving them a light push, sending them to the empty concrete below. The two suitcases burst open upon colliding with the ground, exposing their hollow insides.

Seeming elated and proud of himself, Izaya spins to meet Celty directly. "Well," he says, "now that that's out of the way, would you mind being a dear and go deliver some goods for me? They're currently placed on one of the wooden benches somewhere in Ikebukuro Park, you should be able to find them. That is, if nobody has found them and called the cops yet."

[Actually I've sent them back to their homes already.]

"Ah, efficient as ever, eh Courier? Are you that eager to return home?"

[Not really. I've just grown used to dealing with jobs like these, sadly enough.]

"You're certainly not one to mince words, are you?" Izaya says with an amused chuckle.

[Well, it IS you, after all... It's like I don't even have to try.]

Izaya smiles, a little too meekly for Celty's liking. "You spend too much time with a certain underground doctor, it seems."

[Is that a bad thing?]

"Oh no no, I just find it funny, is all."

[You find a lot of questionable things funny.] Celty types.

"Ah, true enough." A nod accompanies the acknowledgement that Izaya just made about himself.

Celty slowly erases the text about her opinion on Izaya's character, and decides to take this opportunity to ask the question that's been weighing on her mind since the day she agreed on this shady business partnership.

[I don't understand. Even you admit that your hobbies are anything but normal. So why do you keep indulging in them when you know nobody is going to like it?]

"It's simple," says Izaya. "Because I love humans. Even if they come to hate me for the things I do, I wouldn't mind – precisely because I love them that much."

[You say that, but...] Celty pauses, taking the time to phrase her next words carefully. [But I don't see how loving humans involves such twisted ways of hurting them.]

"Love comes in many different forms, you know. I don't expect anyone to understand or believe me, but I really do love humans. It's just that it's the kind of love that nobody else but me can appreciate."

[...Well you're certainly right about that.] Celty replies, inwardly shaking her nonexistent head.

Izaya laughs. "Hey, hey, you can doubt me all you like, but if I can continue being with humans forever, I'll do whatever it takes, you know? Whether if it's in this life or a sort of afterlife where I can still enjoy watching other people, I'll gladly strive for something like that."

The man's eyes seem to glint as he describes his abnormal love and the goals he has in mind for the sake of that very love.

"Speaking of which, Courier-san, do you believe in things like the afterlife?"

The Dullahan tilts her "head".

[Why are you asking me that, all of a sudden?]

"No real reason, really. Just curious about your opinion on the possibility of there being life after death."

[...I honestly have no idea. And quite frankly, I'm not all that interested to find out.]

"I see," Izaya murmurs. If he is disappointed by her reply, it's far too subtle and too well-masked behind his smile for Celty to notice. "Well, of course you wouldn't know. It's not like you've been there in person; that's a one-way trip, after all. Silly, silly me."

As if entertained by his own supposed mistake, the man with the hooded coat laughs. At such a sight, Celty can only wish she hadn't asked the question that has resulted in this kind of conversation.

"Ah, I'm not planning on finding out myself, in case you're wondering," Izaya says the moment he recovers. "I might be curious, but not quite _that_ curious. I'm scared of dying, after all, so I definitely treasure my own life."

[I find that rather hard to believe.]

While typing her response, Celty sees with her mind's eye Izaya dashing across the streets of Ikebukuro, with Shizuo hightailing behind him with a vending machine at hand.

The corners of Izaya's lips curl into a somewhat dry smile.

"Now that's a pretty interesting thing to say, Courier-san."

As he speaks, the man takes a barely noticeable step backwards and stretches his arms out wide. The ends of his fur-trimmed coat dance along with the wind.

"After all, don't other people often say the same about you?"

°•○ ○•°

"Don't laugh at me for saying this."

[Sure. What is it?]

"...I don't like violence."

The words of such a simple, straightforward confession are muttered by a tall, blond man dressed in a bartender suit in a manner that's directly contrary to the terrifying image that most people have of him.

For those same people, hearing the infamous Heiwajima Shizuo say that would probably make them chuckle nervously before scampering away thinking they have incurred the wrath of the fortissimo of Ikebukuro by laughing in his face. For in their eyes, Heiwajima Shizuo is like a rampaging storm, a whirlwind that can be triggered without warning. A natural disaster just waiting to happen – that is the general consensus of the opinion that most people have of the man.

Celty is not one of those people.

With both elbows resting on the handrail, Shizuo leans backwards, tilting his head towards the night sky.

"Did I ever tell you, how I was like as a kid?" he asks.

[I don't think so.] Celty replies, tapping on his shoulder to show him the screen of her PDA.

"It sucked," he says, giving her a mirthful smile. "I mean, not that it doesn't suck now, but... Back then, I got caught up in a whole mountain of trouble because of this crappy power. The hospital bills, complain letters, and debts just keep piling on my parents' shoulders, non-stop. It was real crazy."

Celty hesitantly types, [Your parents, did they...?]

"Nah, they never blamed me," Shizuo answers the question that Celty can't bring herself to finish. "Wish they did, though. Would've made me feel a lot better. But they didn't. And neither did Kasuka, even when I've come close to hurting him one too many times...over some little shit like pudding, you know? We fought over freakin' pudding. I got so mad I almost tossed the fridge at him. But he never... That guy never took it to heart."

Celty slowly lowers her arm until it's resting by her side.

"That's why I don't get it," Shizuo continues, his voice growing quieter by the second. "I grew up in a normal family. With parents who love me, and a brother who supports me in everything that I do... And yet, this is the kind of person that I've become."

As he mutters those words, the blond lowers his head to stare at his hands.

"...Why?" Shizuo murmurs. "Why did I turn out this way? I thought about that, over and over, for a long time. And I realised. If it wasn't because of other people...then it has to be me, right? I'm the one that made myself this way. The one who's responsible for me...is me. Isn't it?"

[Shizuo...]

"Heh, funny how that works, right? I hate this power so much, but I'm the reason it exists. All those times this power has been used to hurt people, to destroy the things around me... It's all because I failed to control it. I'm the one who let it go berserk."

With his fingers curled into fists, Shizuo lets out a brief sigh.

"People keep saying...how ridiculously strong I am." He chuckles a little at that, as though the mere idea is nothing but a joke. "But really... I'm nothing like that at all."

[Don't speak of yourself like that.] Celty hurriedly flashes the screen in front of Shizuo's face.

"Celty..."

[Don't.] she says. Shizuo knows what she's referring to, and falls silent as she continues typing, [Shizuo you're a far better man than most people I've met. Far, far better, and don't you refute that. It pains me to see you being so hard on yourself when there's no need for you to do so.]

The Headless Rider gives one of Shizuo's shoulders a gentle squeeze.

[You're stronger than you think you are. You just haven't believed yourself to be yet.]

Shizuo first lands his eyes on the hand on his shoulder, then at the being clad in black standing before him, and smiles sadly.

"...You really think so?" he says, almost sounding like he's whispering.

[I know so.] Celty replies.

And for the first time since getting to know the embodiment of Ikebukuro's natural disaster, Celty hears Shizuo laugh.

°•○ ○•°

He's holding the container close to his face and peering through the lime green fluid to have a good look at the exceptionally rare specimen it's housing when a hand, seemingly coming from nowhere, slams right down on his table.

"Are you even listening to me?"

A woman in her twenties, slightly older than he is, asks with an unimpressed frown.

The man tilts his head to the side until he can see the woman's face, in a fashion not unlike that of a child peeking at his parents from behind a wall, and tosses her a smirk.

"It's strange, isn't it?" he asks back. "She has such a peaceful expression when she's slumbering like this. If I didn't know any better, I might've thought that I'm holding a human head in my hands."

"You haven't been listening at all..." the woman hisses.

The man laughs, and calmly sets the container on the table.

"No need to get all hasty, Namie-san. The matter you've come to discuss with me is being settled as we speak. So let's just give it some time to wrap itself up, shall we?"

"This is my Seiji we're talking about here. My Seiji."

"Who is most assuredly safe," the man replies with a smooth voice. "Trust me, everything will be settled tonight, if not by tomorrow morning."

Namie pulls back with a scowl, and folds her arms.

"I'll hold you to that promise," she says.

The man smiles gleefully as he returns his attention to the flask sitting atop his desk.

"At any rate, I have to say, it's almost hard to believe that this is the very head belonging to the legendary Headless Rider. No matter how you look at it, it just doesn't look like it suits her very well, does it?"

"...Why are you asking for my opinion? I don't care about who the owner of the damn head is, much less whether it suits her."

"I wonder, has the connection between the head and the body been completely severed? Are we to regard them as separate entities? If that's the case, then what would happen if the head awakens on its own? Can it even awaken without the body in the first place?"

"You know, I really don't care about all that."

"Hey Namie-san, how much do you know about Dullahans and Valkyries?"

The woman raises a brow. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Material on the possible connection is scarce, but some people are speculating that Dullahans are in fact fallen Valkyries who have forgotten their roles and identities as ferrymen of the dead. Of course, there isn't much, if any, solid evidence, but when you think about it, you can't say it's entirely impossible."

"Sounds like hogwash to me," Namie says bluntly, shrugging.

The smile on the man's face widens, almost appearing to reach his ears, and without asking her for permission he releases the seal on the lid of the fluid-filled container. Seeing this prompts Namie to ask what his intentions are, to which the man only chuckles as he gets up from his seat and pulls his sleeves back.

By this point, she realises what he's trying to do. And she lets him.

When the man dips both of his hands into the fluid, Namie doesn't bother reminding him of the importance of wearing protective gloves in such a situation, only choosing to watch his every movement silently. Even as he picks the head up, raises it to his eye level and stares at it longingly, Namie doesn't say a single thing, and doesn't budge a single muscle no matter how disturbing a sight this is to her.

"I know it seems like that to you, but for me this could be the answer I've been looking for."

With pale green liquid dripping from his hands, the man inches the head closer to himself.

"Did you know? Apparently Valkyries have been appointed by Odin as guides leading the way to Valhalla. It's the place where the souls of the greatest warriors who have fallen in mighty battle are said to be laid to rest, where they can feast and make merry for all eternity. You can say it is the equivalent of Heaven...or, perhaps, it is that very Heaven itself.

"And here we have...a Dullahan's severed head."

The man utters these words like a whispering of sweet nothings, the gaze he gives upon the sleeping head in his hands not unlike that of a person looking at the object or being of his heart's desire from afar.

Namie brings her arms closer to her body, and tries to ignore the urge to rub the trickles and pricks along her arms away.

"It seems like fate, doesn't it? All along, I've always believed that there was no such thing as an afterlife, yet here I am holding the very thing that might just prove me wrong. And it's Valhalla, of all things, on top of that."

"...I don't really know what you're going on about," Namie finally opens her mouth to speak, "but I'm quite sure, even if this so-called afterlife of yours exists, you won't be taken to any place but hell."

"That's fine with me."

The man raises the head higher, and tilts it down until its slumbering expression faces him directly. Behind him, the bright orange glow of the setting sun pours into his office, bathing the two of them with its radiance.

And then Izaya says, with a smile coming from the bottom of his heart:

"As long as I continue to exist...something like that no longer really matters."

°•○ ○•°

 _Aaaahhh she's going to be so mad at me._

Shinra thinks to himself, repeatedly, ever since the most important woman in his life stepped through the front door. Or probably much earlier than that – it's impossible to tell by now, when his heart is racing and beads of cold sweat are trickling down his back as the light from her PDA illuminates the living room.

He gives her the answer he admits she's been needing to hear. And he tells her, honestly and sincerely, the reason behind his behaviour and actions, the reason behind the lies and secrecy.

She's stunned. To the point that she freezes up and doesn't give him a reply for what feels like an eternity.

During that time, Shinra can only give her a weak smile and a bashful chuckle. There's no more words he can think of offering to say to her at this point.

He gazes at her intently, hiding and rubbing his cold, clammy palms behind his back. And his heart nearly leaps out of his throat when the light from her PDA fills the room once again.

[Can I punch you?] The screen reads.

Shinra is only too happy to give his consent, and spreads his arms out wide.

The incoming fist knocks out the breath he hasn't realised he's been holding.

The next second he finds the back of his head knocking against the glass of the window. Then he slides to the ground, massaging the afflicted area where it's starting to feel particularly warm and sore.

"That was a good punch. I deserved it."

[I'm glad you realise.] Celty responds; Shinra can almost hear her actually huffing a bit, and his smile widens at that.

"All right then." He groans and winces a little as he gets up on his feet, but quickly masks that with a playful hum. "I guess it's my turn now."

[What do you mean?]

"Yeah, I admit I was a jerk for keeping such a secret from you, but you haven't been all that honest with me either, right Celty?"

Celty flinches.

[Th-that's... Well...]

"So, isn't it fair if I punch you too?" Shinra says, beaming. "At least humour me a bit? Please?"

The Dullahan takes a moment to consider his words, and eventually nods as a form of her agreement.

Shinra takes a few slow steps towards her, pretending to flex his wrist as he thanks her for playing along. He stops only when he's close enough to reach her from an arm's length, and his entire being aches to get closer.

"Here I go, then."

He waits for Celty to give another nod before raising his hand, positioning it at where he believes Celty's eye level to be. The headless woman stands perfectly still for him, and he wonders just what he has done to have been so blessed with her presence in his life as his fist makes contact with the visor of her helmet.

It falls off and rolls across the floor, leaving the shadowy trail at the base of Celty's neck exposed and swimming freely about above her shoulders. Shinra chuckles.

"As I thought, Celty really does look the best when you're like this."

She tilts her neck to the side slightly, seemingly confused, and is about to tap on the screen of her PDA when Shinra wraps his arms around her torso and pulls her into his embrace.

"So at your most beautiful, I want to say this to you," he whispers tenderly, brushing his cheek against where her own is supposed to be. "Please, stay with me.

"Let's try to stay together...always and forever more."

Celty doesn't reply. But she doesn't have to for Shinra to tighten his embrace.

"May the punches we've just exchanged be like kisses we've made to seal this promise... Okay?"

He receives a punch to the gut in response, and chokes on his saliva before falling backwards onto the sofa, pulling Celty along with him.

And there the both of them lay, with Celty on top of Shinra, with both their arms tightly wrapped around one another, Shinra's heart beating wildly against Celty's bosom, and Celty's own remaining silent and unmoving. The sofa seems small against the frames of their bodies, but for that evening – in just that moment – Shinra thinks it's simply perfect.

Celty holds up her PDA as words appear in rapid succession across the screen.

[You're such an idiot.]

°•○ ○•°

"Well, now... This is unexpected."

Izaya can't help but comment, as the being that he once thought only existed in legends and myths pulls her outstretched hand back slightly. The tingling sensation around his neck seems to tighten a little at that, the sharp end of what looks like a black nail brought closer to his face.

But even so, the man is unfazed, and continues to send a smirk in the Headless Rider's way as he taps a finger against the armrest of his swivel chair with no particular rhythm or beat in mind.

"This is probably the first time you've openly and unabashedly revealed your abilities right before my eyes, you know. Could it be that you no longer have any qualms about using your power to threaten humans now, just because they have upset you?"

[What does it matter to you?] is the cold reply he gets. [Besides, this isn't about me. And it never will. So you can make fun of me and insult me all you like, but don't you dare talk about Shinra in that manner. If you do that again... I'll really hurt you.]

The rope made out of Celty's shadows press even harder against Izaya's windpipe at that, almost as though it were responding to her words like it would a direct command.

"...Scaaaary," Izaya murmurs, though the smile never leaves his face. "I honestly never would've thought that you'd care for Shinra this much."

[I do.]

Izaya blinks at that, before a snicker escapes his lips.

"Wow, so you can say that without feeling any sort of shame or embarrassment. I'm actually quite impressed. Not just anybody can do that...but, then again, you're not human in the first place so I really shouldn't be too surprised."

[...That's not entirely true.]

"Hm...?"

For a moment or so, the both of them fall silent, with Izaya's eyes glued to the headless woman sitting on the sofa, and said headless woman staring back at him. Then, all at once, the pressure on his neck dissipates, air rushes back down his trachea and into his lungs, and the string of shadows flows back into the darkness of the Dullahan's sleeve.

Izaya absentmindedly rubs his neck, pretending not to notice the stings that flare up at his own touch, and leans forward to rest his chin on his free hand. At around the same time, Celty holds up her PDA, allowing Izaya to read the message that she has written on the screen.

[Shinra, he... He's too nice to me. Sometimes to the point where I'm overwhelmed and I have no idea what to do. I used to think that I don't really deserve his kindness and feelings, but he gives them all anyway, and I... I'm just so thankful to have him by my side. That's why...if somebody ever makes fun of him for doing so...especially if it's you, I just...can't...]

The smile that's usually plastered on Izaya's face like a permanent landmark gives way to a mild frown.

"Huh, so that's it," he murmurs, sounding disinterested. "But you know, Courier? Is that really okay with you?"

[What do you mean?]

"Well, look at it this way. The reason he's so obsessed with you is because you're not of this world, right? Precisely because you are not human, your very nature and existence has him captivated and enthralled, ever since he's laid eyes on you," Izaya bluntly points out, ignoring the stiffening of the Dullahan's shoulders at that statement. Then, with an acidic smile, he continues, "So what if, say, you're not the only Dullahan or supernatural creature around in this world? What if someday, some other being appears before his eyes, and mesmerises him just as you have? What would you do, if that were to happen?"

He's phrased all that and said it in the harshest yet kindest manner possible, exactly as his job requires him to be: an informant who is hired to only provide the hard facts and details, in a way that would not offend the client or have them thinking of him as rude or disrespectful. He is, in other words, simply laying out the truth as it is, or what he perceives to be as one of his client's personal truths that she may refuse to believe in.

The truth of the possibility that what he says may actually come true.

And so, because Izaya said so in such a manner, the answer he gets is completely beyond his expectations.

[...It's funny you would ask that.] Celty types, her shoulders shaking as though she's chuckling to herself.

Izaya's eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn't say a thing. And he remains just as speechless even when the Dullahan flashes him the subsequent message that follows.

[After all... It's already happened.]

°•○ ○•°

He doesn't want to admit it, but it's been some time since he last came here so he did get lost along the way.

The only reason he hasn't gone completely off-track is a simple yet complicated thing. And that is the fact that Shizuo is able to pick up on a particular flea's scent, regrettably enough.

"Shizu-chan is just like a dog!" is what that flea would say in such a situation. Shizuo can imagine him snickering, and crushes the cigarette between his fingers at the thought.

"Iiiiiiizaaaayaaaa-kuuuun," Shizuo calls out, deliberately dragging the flea's name as he steps into the lift lobby. "Let's plaaaaa—guh?!"

The sudden introduction of icy cold metal against his cheek makes the fortissimo of Ikebukuro recoil, turning sharply to face whoever it is that dared disturb him while he's obviously engaged with some business at the moment.

"Awww man, and I was looking forward to having a nice cool drink, too," the offender said with mock disappointment, watching the canned beverage roll across the floor.

"You...! Izaya!" Shizuo exclaims through gritted teeth.

Izaya innocently looks up from the ground, acting surprised at being called at.

"Oh, I see Shizu-chan is here. My, you're looking lively as ever."

"Don't pretend you didn't already see me just now!"

"Anyway what are you doing here? You can't possibly have come all the way from Ikebukuro for just a simple visit, have you?"

"...Tch. You just said it yourself."

Shizuo, whose voice has grown much quieter as he finally gets to talk about his true purpose in coming to Shinjuku, takes a step forward, shortening the gap between the both of them until he's close enough to hear Izaya breathe.

"I'm here to give you a real good beating."

Izaya gives a sigh.

"Shizu-chan, has age caught up to you so fast that you're already hard of hearing? I said nothing of the sort, you know."

"You said I can't be here for just a visit. That means you know I'm here for another reason."

"That's because you rarely drop by Shinjuku, knowing fully well that I live here. So if I see you here, I automatically assume that it's for a reason that's not concerning me."

"Like you said, you're the reason I avoid coming here. So obviously you'd be the reason I even come to Shinjuku at all."

Izaya's smirk turns sour as he chuckles dryly.

"...And so? What have I done that makes me deserve to get a beating?"

"Everything and anything," Shizuo growls.

"That's not a real reason."

"It is, when every single thing you do pisses me off."

"Mm-hm, so going by your logic, I deserve to get beaten just because I exist. Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Yeah. So just shut up and let me beat you to a pulp already."

Izaya shakes his head.

"You want me to agree to a beating for a reason like that? That's no good, Shizu-chan. You can't go beating people up just because they piss you off. If you want to play the hero that badly, at least give something substantial as your reason before picking a fight."

"I don't want to hear that from the likes of you," Shizuo says, before leaning closer to mutter darkly under his breath, "especially not when you're the one stirring up shit just 'cuz you like it."

"Now we're talking," Izaya chirps.

"...So you're not even gonna try denying it, huh?"

"I honestly have no idea what you mean by that. I was just expressing my satisfaction at seeing you heeding my advice."

"I'm talking about the Slasher incidents that's been popping up all over 'Bukuro," Shizuo clarifies.

Izaya doesn't reply at first, simply flashing him a sly grin before stepping away, broadening the distance that had been shortened not too long ago.

Nostrils flaring, Shizuo yells out, "I know you're involved in that, I can smell it from a mile away!"

"...That's quite the accusation, don't you think?"

Izaya stops in his tracks, and casually slides both of his hands into his coat pockets.

"Besides, you're still going on about that canine nose of yours? Give it a rest already. You've been saying the same thing ever since the day we first met back in high school. Even if you're not tired of saying it, I'm tired of hearing it."

"Shut up," Shizuo retorts. It's not like he can smell the flea because he wants to. The slippery eel of a bastard just stinks that badly.

And wherever he goes, his mark in the form of his odour always gets left behind in the wake of the destruction he causes.

It's like looking at the mess from an overturned trash bin and knowing instinctively who is responsible for it. In this case, if there's any word of trouble of any sort, the first person Shizuo would think of who might have had a hand in it would definitely be none other than Izaya. Because...

"If there are weird things happening to the town that can't be explained in any other way, then there's a ninety-nine percent chance that it's because you're involved," Shizuo explains. "It's as simple as that."

"I see," Izaya murmurs, sounding a little more tired than Shizuo is used to hear him as. Then, with a brightened spirit, he asks, "So I take it that you don't trust in that remaining one percent chance for this particular incident, am I right?"

"...That's right," Shizuo replies. He tries not to think about the reason for his hesitation and reluctance in giving an answer that has always been so straightforward in his mind. "And don't you go banking your hopes on it for the next incident, or the incident after that, or the incident after after... Because I won't believe in it. Ever."

"...I thought so," Izaya says, his voice turning as sharp as the polished edge of the switchblade that appears in his hand from seemingly out of nowhere. He tosses Shizuo a dangerous wink. "Well then, Shizu-chan. Shall we play?"

A feral grin appears on Shizuo's face.

°•○ ○•°

Heiwajima Shizuo is not a typical man.

Some say he is a monster with inhuman strength. Others liken him to a beast that cannot be negotiated with once he sees red. And then some more others claim that he is not any different from a tidal wave that comes crashing down when you least expect it, his temperment not unlike that of an active volcano that has a chance of erupting at any given moment.

Whatever it is, amidst the sea of depictions and analogies that various people have used at various points in their lives to describe the being known as Heiwajima Shizuo, there is one thing that they undoubtedly agree on. And that is the fact that Heiwajima Shizuo is a force to be reckoned with.

Though it pains him a little to admit it, the man himself agrees with all of those assessments.

No matter how much he desires it to be so, Shizuo can never really be called a "normal" human being. Not when he can singlehandedly bring an entire city – and perhaps even more – into complete ruins. Even if he has no inclination to do so whatsoever, just having that kind of power is enough to label him as a dangerous existence.

It's because of that power that nobody likes him. It's because of that power that people fear him. It's because of that power that he fears being too close to people.

Shizuo understands this well, and that is why he can't bring himself to accept that power he detests so much as a part of him.

Until today.

"...So you're all saying that you love me."

As he looks at the crowd surrounding and staring at him with unnaturally bright red eyes, Shizuo takes a deep breath.

"Why?" he asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" a high school girl whose sclera is painted a vivid scarlet answers. The smile on her face is wide and unhinged, to the point of looking inhuman. "It's because you're strong. We love it. That strength of yours. Mother loves it, and so we do, too."

Shizuo stares back at her for a minute or so, and then to the astonishment of everybody present there he throws his head back, roaring with laughter.

[Sh-Shizuo?! Are you okay?!]

He stops only when he realises that Celty is shaking him and panickedly trying to get him to look at what she's written on the screen of her PDA.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, don't worry," Shizuo replies. He can feel his mouth forming one of the biggest smiles he's ever made in his life. "It's just... I'm happy. I didn't think anybody could ever love me, but here I have this whole group of people saying that they do. Because of that power, of all things. I mean, even I can't stand having this power, yet now there's people saying they love me for it."

The blond shrugs, giving a quiet chuckle.

"It's making me wonder... Does that mean it's okay to let it all out now? To use this power I hate so much? And learn...how to love it like these people do?"

[Shizuo...]

Celty trails off here to rest a hand on Shizuo's shoulder, an all-too familiar gesture that Shizuo is eternally grateful for.

[You know Shinra and I... We don't worry about things like that.]

"...I know," Shizuo murmurs, smiling softly. "But this is different, Celty. That's why... I know I have to do this."

[...Okay.]

She replies, letting her hand linger on Shizuo's shoulder for a while longer before withdrawing it. Using the same hand, the Black Rider conjures up a few of her shadows, and moulds them together to form a pair of glossy, black gloves which she presses against one of Shizuo's palms.

[I heard that Saika spreads its love through the cuts it makes.] Celty explains. [These gloves are made from the same material as my clothes. They should be able to offer some protection against whatever sharp objects these people have brought along with them.]

Shizuo smirks, gloves already put on even without Celty needing to explain the need for them.

"Thanks," he says. "They fit perfectly."

Celty nods, and then, after leaving behind a reminder for him to be careful, she hops onto Shooter and leaps over the crowd. Shizuo waits until she finds a spot of a certain distance away before he redirects his attention to the people who have claimed to love him under the influence of a demonic sword.

"...All right then."

As he mutters those words, the fortissmo of Ikebukuro tugs at the gloves that his companion just made for him.

"I'll start off by saying that I appreciate your feelings," Shizuo yells out, making sure all the red-eyed people present can hear him perfectly, "but unfortunately, I can't return them. In fact I don't even like any of you one bit. So, if you really do love me like you say you do... Could you do me a favour and get out of my sight right now? If not... Don't blame me when I send you all flying to the opposite end of Ikebukuro."

The crowd moans and murmurs amongst themselves, and then as Celty predicted, they reach into whatever bags they have brought along with them and take out their knives, scissors, pens – anything that is capable of making a cut, is being brought into the limelight now, clear for Shizuo to see.

"Then we'll make you love Mother, just as Mother loves all of us," the same high school girl from earlier says.

"Heh, go ahead and try, then."

With that said, Shizuo gets into a fighting position, and readies both of his fists.

"But just so you know, I don't plan on losing. Especially not to any of you."

 _Because if I'm fighting in front of somebody who loves me... There's no way I'd ever lose._

°•○ ○•°

"At any rate..."

"Hn?"

"Your body certainly has adapted well to injuries. I mean, getting shot multiple times and only realising it when you start seeing actual blood pool around you? Idiocy aside – please don't kill me – that's quite the tolerance for pain you have."

Shizuo scoffs and leans his head back, resting it against the sofa as his childhood friend cleans and disinfects his gunshot wounds. The pile of bloodstained cotton balls almost looks like a mini mountain by now, but the bullets are still lodged in his skin, which continues to ooze blood even as Shinra stuffs dressing after dressing to soak it up.

"...That's it," the doctor sighs in exasperation when he finds one of an earlier dressings turned a bright red. "I'm getting the bullets out of you right now."

"Sure took you long enough," Shizuo grumbles.

"It's hard to see what I'm picking at with all this blood, you know!" Shinra protests, sticking the sterilised forceps into the first gunshot wound he can find.

Shizuo raises a brow. "...Why're you complaining? Haven't you been asking for it since elementary school?"

Shinra freezes, and the bullet he just retrieved falls onto the kidney dish with a _clang_ that reverberates through the silence. Then he shouts intelligibly with widened eyes.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhh! Blood! That's right—blood! It's the blood! This, this—!"

"The hell?"

"Why did I not realise this sooner?! Oh Shizuo-kun, thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I'll go get a...oh."

When Shinra cuts himself off and becomes that mellow so abruptly, Shizuo blinks and asks what is stopping him from moving to get the sample he has been requesting for since more than a decade ago.

"Ah, no, it's just... It doesn't seem all that fair to you."

"What doesn't?"

The underground doctor has a wistful smile on his face.

"All of this, Shizuo-kun. Me, asking you for your blood when you've just been shot from literally out of nowhere? I mean, I'm supposed to be a doctor here, right? That's what you've come to me for, after all. If that's the case, then what kind of doctor would I be if I take advantage of a patient's condition like this?"

"...Okay, fess up. What's really bothering you?"

"Huh? Haven't I—"

"It's not like you to act like all noble and saintly, ugh hell no. So cut all the crap about taking advantage of me or whatever and tell me straight: what's stopping you?"

"...You really want to know?"

Shizuo clicks his tongue. "I just said so, didn't I?"

"Right, right, of course," Shinra hurriedly concedes defeat, raising both hands in surrender. He sets the bloodied forceps on the kidney dish, removes his surgical gloves, and rests his hands on his knees, an uncharacteristically uneasy expression settling on his features.

Then, with a nod directed at himself, Shinra raises his head to look at Shizuo straight in the eye.

"I was...thinking. About the past."

Shizuo folds his arms, giving a thoughtful hum. "What about it?" he asks.

"Ah, nothing much, really. I was just remembering the first time I asked you for your blood and it made me all nostalgic. Like, ahhh I did that when you were in the hospital, and I realised that I was trying to take advantage of you back then, too. And it's not fair, when I think about it now."

"You're starting to piss me off with that thing again."

"I am, aren't I? Ahaha," Shinra laughs somewhat weakly. "I guess... What I really mean to say is, I don't want to give you the wrong idea about our relationship, Shizuo-kun."

Shizuo doesn't say anything, and merely continues giving Shinra that intense, inquisitive gaze. So Shinra picks up his forceps again, and clips the ends together repeatedly, staring blankly at the spots of crimson liquid that have begun to dry.

"Sure, it was your strength that drew me in, compelled me to be your friend. But, it's more than just that, Shizuo-kun. It's more than that."

Then Shinra looks up and smiles goofily.

"It's not the individual bits and pieces that I'm interested in, after all."

Behind the blue-tinted lens of his shades, Shinra notices Shizuo's eyes widening slightly at those words. The blonde, however, remains an otherwise calm and composed exterior, slowly letting out a heavy sigh as he unfolds his arms. Then, he lets out a quiet chuckle.

"You didn't have to say that twice, you know," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.

"Haha, I suppose not."

"...C'mon," Shizuo speaks, stretching out the arm Shinra was working on earlier. "Take it outta me already."

"Don't mind if I do, then," Shinra replies, beaming as he puts on a new pair of gloves, and immediately resumes his work.

Throughout it all, neither of them has ever acknowledged the presence of one Sonohara Anri sitting there in the living room on the couch adjacent to them.

°•○ ○•°

The air in the room is thick with stunned silence, leaving the formerly low rumbling of boiling hotpot sounding awfully loud under such circumstances, like the volume of background music being turned up a notch without any prior warning.

Everyone watches with bated breath as the people responsible for incurring such a reaction part ways with each other before springing question after question, comment after comment.

"Well then... This is really...interesting."

"Uh... I can't say...I'm not surprised?"

"Ohmygodohmygod are you actually— You— And you— Are you all— Kyaaah! This is incredible, _incredible_!"

"Shush Karisawa-san, you're embarrassing them poor lovebirds!"

"But you see you see?! Didn't you see?! Their foreheads – they _touched,_ Yumacchi, they _touched_!"

"I get it, I get it already..."

"C'mon Seiji-san, let's do it too! The two of us can't lose to them, right?"

"Ha! Try all you can but nobody can beat me and Kuru-nee when it comes to—owww!"

"...Quiet (shut up)... Selfish (this isn't about us)..."

"U-uh, well, umm... Congratulations?"

"I-I'm...happy for you."

"Oh my god you have to tell us everything! And I mean everything, like, when did it start?! Who was the one who made the first move?! How do you decide what roles you're playing in b—mmf?!"

"Nothing at all, nothing at all! Pay her no mind, pay her no mind!"

The commotion continues, with Karisawa Erika trying to squeal and scream unintelligible things that are not suited for people like Ryuugamine Mikado and Sonohara Anri to hear, and Kadota Kyohei, Yumasaki Walker and Togusa Saburou doing all they can to keep her quiet. Harima Mika and Yagiri Seiji, in contrast, have already entered a world of their own, feeding each other with Mika's arm around Seiji's own and engaged in a loving conversation without a care for everything else happening around them, while Orihara Mairu falls at the mercy of Orihara Kururi's pinches.

Tanaka Tom lets out a tired sigh. But when he reaches out to pat Shizuo on the shoulder, he makes sure to give him a warm smile.

"I'm glad you found someone, Shizuo," says Tom.

Shizuo's cheeks are dusted a darker shade of red as the corners of his lips curl into a somewhat awkward, but genuinely happy, smile. A muffled, high-pitched squeal can be heard coming from one corner of the kitchen.

Kadota looks around the living room.

"By the way, where's Izaya? If this hotpot gathering is for what I think it is, why didn't you invite Izaya along, too?"

And for the second time that evening, the living room of the Kishitani household becomes enveloped in silence, with only the sound of the bubbling hotpot as the constant that cannot be drowned out by the sudden quietness. Even still, however, and even when everyone's eyes turn to him when he said what is believed to be considered taboo, Kadota remains equally expectant of an answer.

So Shinra answers with an indifferent shrug, "There are some idiots in this world who prefer enjoying their hotpots alone. Even when they've been invited oh so nicely, on three separate occasions, they still insist on it 'not being the appropriate season'. Well, good riddance to them, I say. I sure hope they're enjoying themselves. Alone."

"...You don't have to be so bitter about it," Kadota mutters.

[Sorry, Shinra's just feeling a little indignant for Shizuo and me. ...Though that's what he says. I personally believe it's mostly because he thought too highly of his own convincing ability and got shot down so humiliatingly in the end.]

"Yeah, weren't you all, 'Izaya's bound to come if it's me asking him. I'm sure of it'? And then the flea went and said no straight to your face. It was pretty funny."

"Ahaha. How cruel. The two of you," Shinra says, but the smile on his face is undoubtedly happy and in peace as he glances at Celty, then at Shizuo, and then finally at the hotpot on the table.

He lets out a blissful sigh.

"Looks like I'm in for a hard time..."

°•○ ○•°

He's in the middle of taking a wefie when the camera he intends to use starts ringing, and he lets out a melodramatic cry of agony.

"Who the hell is this?" Shinra spits out as he answers the call.

"'Who the hell', you say... Now that is one telephone greeting I haven't heard of in my entire life."

"...Oh, it's you. What do you want? I'm kind of busy, if you don't mind."

"Busy on a date with a certain monster, I'm guessing? ...Actually, make that two monsters, I've nearly forgotten that that's a thing with you now."

"Goodbye, Orihara-kun."

"Hey hey, don't hang up just yet, at least humour me a little. I've recently been hospitalised, you see, and I'm starting to get bored out of my mind here."

"Hospitalised? Why, what happened?"

"Didn't you see the news on TV this morning? I got stabbed last night."

"Oh, that so? Well, see you."

Before the man on the other end of the line can say any more, Shinra ends the call and slips his phone back into his pocket. When he looks up, he notices Celty and Shizuo exchanging glances with each other, before one of them decides to ask:

[Was that Izaya who called? I heard something about being in a hospital – is he alright?]

"He's fine, don't worry about him," Shinra scoffs, waving it off. "He just got himself stabbed or something. No biggie."

[Stabbed?!] "The flea's hurt?"

Shizuo and Celty both respond at nearly the exact same time.

"Apparently," Shinra replies, and Celty hurriedly taps on her PDA.

[And you didn't ask him more about it? Like which hospital he's staying in, and how long he has to be there for?]

"Didn't see the need."

"...Aren't you being a little overboard? I mean, I hate the flea's guts too, but..."

[...You're not still sour over what happened that night, are you?]

Shinra shakes his head.

"This has nothing to do with that," he explains. "Knowingly interrupting our lovely alone time together aside, that bastard is trying to grab any and every opportunity he has to talk rot about the both of you, and I can't stand for things like that, no matter who he is supposed to be to me. Besides, if he can still be doing things like stalking us and making phone calls, I'm sure his injury isn't all that serious in the first place."

[You have a point, but—]

Shinra's phone rings again. Celty erases the message, and merely observes wordlessly as Shinra answers the phone.

"Yes? Who is this?" the underground doctor asks, putting on a polite and professional tone. "Yes... Yes, I am Orihara-kun's friend... Okay... Yeah, I know about it... Huh?!"

Shizuo and Celty tilt their heads to the side at the sudden exclamation.

"No, nothing of the sort! Where did you hear that from? ...Eh? That's not possible, I assure you, I am nothing but an upstanding and upright citizen of Japan—" Shizuo snorts at that, "—so there's no way I have any relation to the gangs or yakuza you speak of. None at all. ...Alright. Thank you. I hope you catch the culprit soon."

Shinra hangs up, and gives a long, drawn out sigh.

When Shizuo and Celty are about to ask him something, Shinra raises his hand and makes a countdown from three to one before his phone starts ringing again.

"Yo~! Did you just get a call from the police, by any chance?"

"Why yes I did, and what a lovely surprise that was, no thanks to you," Shinra says in his driest tone possible.

Izaya laughs.

"I'm glad you liked it. I was so bored that I started thinking of a suitable congratulatory gift for the three of you and then I thought, wouldn't it be funny if an underground doctor like yourself received a call from the police out of the blue? It's sure to add a little more spice to your precious time together with your beloved, no? Aren't I nice? I was thinking of your wellbeing even though I'm hospitalised for a stab wound myself. Aren't you glad you have someone like me as a friend?"

"Ahahahahahaha I wish your wound gets infected so bad you can't even get out of bed anymore."

"Do you really believe the hospital staff here would let that happen to one of their own patients?"

"Not at all. I'm just hoping that you have such terrible luck that it'll happen to you regardless of their efforts."

Shinra covers the receiver, then, and a solemn expression comes over his face as he gazes into the horizon. He lets the salty sea breeze wash over him, and waits until he's sure the vice president of the club he had set up those many years ago has stopped rambling before he removes his thumb and speaks:

"...You know, it doesn't have to be this way, Izaya."

For the briefest of moments, there is silence on both ends, with Izaya's most likely due to the abrupt shift in Shinra's tone to sound gentler, softer.

Almost regretful, even.

"...Whatever do you mean?" Izaya asks.

"You know what. Don't play dumb."

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow. Did we agree on some kind of mutual understanding prior to this conversation?"

"We're done here, Orihara-kun. Once you remember something, drop me a text or whatever, but until then please don't contact me again. Goodbye."

Shinra terminates the call and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

Before he can think of even returning to whatever he had been doing with Celty and Shizuo earlier, however, a familiar ringtone starts screeching again.

"Izaya if you don't stop that right now I'll tell everyone about what happened in middle school!"

He receives no verbal answer.

Slightly perplexed, Shinra repeatedly says "Hello?" over and over, and his confusion only grows as the silence drags on.

Then, somebody taps on his shoulder. He turns.

And there he finds Celty holding her PDA to the side of her helmet, and Shizuo struggling with getting his phone camera to start up.

Shinra snorts, and then it turns into a full-blown laugh.

°•○ ○•°

When Izaya next awakens, he awakens to the fragrance of flowers and fresh fruit wafting in from the neighbouring ward and to a throbbing pain exploding from his side.

The nurse who happens to be there asks after him as she changes his IV bag, and then steps out as soon as she's done, closing the door behind her. Izaya, who has been sending the nurse professional smiles throughout the time she was there, immediately pulls a light frown as he stares at the ceiling.

His first thought is to devise a plan to leave this facility as discreetly as possible.

 _No doubt news of my little stabbing incident has made its way to some people by now... Heck, they're probably already on their way here to kill me, for all I know._

The corners of his lips would've curled a little at that if not for the image of a certain man wearing a bartender suit being the first to surface in his mind, and Izaya's eyes narrow slightly. Because inadvertently, the faces of his underground doctor friend and his ever-so-dependable courier would appear in his mind, too.

But he buries such thoughts like sweeping dust under a carpet, and continues pondering about the likelihood of a monster marching over to the hospital with every intention and reason to kill him.

 _It's likely that Shizu-chan knows about it by now... Even if he didn't watch the news, Shinra probably told him when I made that call. Though... I didn't inform him about which hospital I'm staying at. So the question is, would Shizu-chan really make the effort to search on his own...?_

Part of him doubts so, but then again, there's no telling what that man is truly thinking or what he will do under these circumstances. Even if he doesn't find any information to be found on where Izaya is currently staying at, the brute has his trusty doggy nose to count on; it would be of no surprise to Izaya by now if Shizuo turns up right outside his ward and saying he got here by tracking his scent.

Sometimes Izaya wishes he could just slice that nose clean off Shizuo's face.

Releasing a sigh, he moves down the mental list and tries to shove the blonde brute and his new companions for life to the back of his head. At every name that he can think of, Izaya would bring up any reasons that they might have to come for his life, as well as any reasons that they would not take such a risk and then arrive at some sort of conclusion that he's satisfied with. At some point he entertains the possibility that nobody would come after all, and has such a good laugh about that that the pain from his stab wound spikes and jabs his mouth shut.

The clock on the wall across his bed reads three. By now, he's gone through every person he can think of, and he's simply lying awake in bed, keeping his eyes glued to the door to his ward.

It slides open stealthily, and Izaya feels his heart start racing.

 _So... Who could it be?_

 _Is it Shiki-san or someone from the Awakusu-kai, here to enact revenge for what I've done? Or Kida Masaomi-kun, who hates my guts and hopes for my death? Or is it Sonohara Anri-chan, here to slice and dice me up with that cursed sword of hers? Or is it...?_

Izaya quickly runs through that same list again, and the trepidation only grows with every possibility that flashes through his mind.

A shadowy figure slips into the room.

With his hand holding his flaring side, Izaya pushes himself to sit upright, smile widening with every passing second.

 _Well then... What's going to happen now?_

°•○ ○•°

[...I heard, by the way. About the scar on Shinra's side.]

Izaya views the text on the screen with narrowed eyes.

"I see. So he told you, huh? ...Of course he would. He can't keep anything from you, can he?"

[Shizuo knows, too. He was there when I was helping Shinra change his bandages.]

Celty doesn't need to say much more than that for Izaya to fill in the rest of the story by himself. So he nods a couple of times, hums thoughtfully as he paces around the rooftop – their usual meeting place whenever Izaya has some work to offer her – and then walks towards the railing and lifts himself up onto it.

"Well, now that you've heard the story, what do you think about Shinra's character as a middle schooler? Not quite what you were expecting, am I right to say that?"

Celty seems to ponder about the question – or about having been asked such a question out of nowhere, it can easily be one of the two or a mix of both – before she taps on the screen of her PDA.

[I'll admit, though I always knew Shinra was a little...strange even as a kid, I really didn't think he would go to such an extent at that age.]

"Oh, he was – and still is, by the way – absolutely crazy about you. I may lie to a lot of people, including myself, as I've said earlier, but that's something that I can't lie about so you can trust me on that."

[It's not like I was doubting his love for me or anything, but... Thanks, I suppose.]

Then she adds, almost like an afterthought:

[...Though I don't really appreciate you talking about him like that.]

"What? Was I wrong in describing him as such? I mean, you do realise that the reason Shinra is anything but normal is because of you, don't you? You being the object of his obsession is why he can detach himself from the people around him – from all of humanity, even. And you say he's not the slightest bit crazy about you?"

[If he is to be considered crazy for falling in love with something like me, then I should be considered crazy for falling in love with somebody like him. If he is to be considered crazy for developing feelings for me, then I should be considered crazy for returning those feelings.]

Izaya doesn't reply. Celty continues to type, furiously.

[And if Shinra is to be considered crazy for trying to prove his love for a being like me... Then you should be considered crazy for attempting something as ambitious as loving all of humanity. And honestly, between Shinra who cares nothing for other humans, and you who love every single human being, I think Shinra is the more normal one of you two.]

The black-haired man raises his shoulders in a casual shrug.

"Me, even crazier and less normal than Shinra is? Though I normally consider that a compliment, it certainly doesn't sound very flattering when it's coming from you."

[That's because there's nothing about you that's even worth praising in the first place.] Celty replies.

Izaya's eyes glint at that.

"Oh really? And Shinra has something worth praising aside from his blind devotion to you? And Shizu-chan, for that matter, has something worth commending aside from his impeccable talent at destroying city infrastructure?"

[You're just trying to annoy me, I can tell—]

"Well and how about yourself?" Izaya continues, pretending not to notice Celty's fingers skidding cross the screen. "Didn't you once tell me that you didn't feel deserving of Shinra's love and attention? Or do you no longer see yourself like that anymore now?"

Celty pauses for a moment, before she wipes the previous message clean and retypes her response.

[It's true, I'm not as perfect as Shinra makes me out to be. Sometimes I think that it's a mistake for him or Shizuo to have even met me at all. But even still, I...]

She pauses. And then she continues:

[I want to be by their side.]

Izaya takes one look at the screen, and a bitter smile forms on his face.

"Are you really fine with that? I don't really care for what happens to Shizu-chan since he's such a good match for you, but Shinra's going to care even less about humans if you do that, you know."

[I'm well aware of that. That's why I'm going to take responsibility for it. Besides... I don't believe that it'll happen.]

"…What do you mean?"

[Well, he cares for Shizuo, at the very least.]

"Shizu-chan is no human. He is but a mere beast, so I'm afraid I can't quite take that as an example."

Celty coolly types her response, ignoring Izaya's comment, and shoves the screen so close to his face that it's almost difficult to make out the words.

[And for the record, he cares about you, too.]

Izaya doesn't bother stifling the laugh that escapes his lips as he kicks his legs in the air, almost like a child at the peak of a moving swing who's trying to use his toes to reach for the sky.

"He does, hmm? So who was it that I talked to when I was bored out of my mind in the hospital after getting stabbed? The person who said 'Oh that so?' and hung up right after I told him about it."

[You don't understand.]

Izaya stops to look at the screen of Celty's PDA carefully. At those seemingly simple words, all snickering and excitement cease, and are replaced by a chilling undercurrent of irritation that the smile on his face brings with.

"Alright then, what is it that I lack understanding in, my dear Courier-san? What makes you so certain that I'm not understanding anything?" he asks, with a pleasant-sounding voice that cuts through the air like a throwing knife that's been tossed so stealthily Celty isn't entirely confident of what she's about to tell him anymore.

But she does so anyway, fingers steadily working across the virtual keyboard before she can even think about hesitating.

[You weren't there when we changed his bandages.] is all the screen says.

°•○ ○•°

"...What a nice moon we're having tonight."

As he tilts his head towards the sky with his elbows resting on the railing behind him, Izaya allows himself a wry smile while muttering those words.

There isn't a single cloud in sight, nor are there any stars that appear to be twinkling that night. Just a round moon in its complete, reflected glory against the blackness of the night sky, looking no different from the full moon one lunar month before, or the month before that. But even while knowing that, Izaya still voices out his honest opinion, not the least bit mindful of the fact that there isn't anybody who would listen or respond to him. The night breeze starts blowing.

Izaya lightly pushes himself off the edge he's leaning his back against and starts walking around the rooftop, sliding his hands into his coat pockets and bringing his shoulders closer together.

His phone chooses that moment to ring. He doesn't need to check the caller ID to know who it is.

"...Hey. So you finally figured it out, huh?" Izaya says as a greeting. When the only reply he gets is nothing but silence, he continues, as naturally a smooth talker as he usually is, "What's the matter? Aren't you going to yell out my name and tell me to get out of Ikebukuro at this instant? Or snarl like the beast you are and attempt to hurl a vending machine or two into the air?"

The other person on the line remains silent. Izaya can hear slow and heavy breathing, but makes no comment about it and simply continues pacing and chatting without a care.

"Right, right, how is that kouhai of yours doing? Let's see... Vorona, was it? I sent her on a little moonlighting, I hope you don't mind, and I haven't heard from her since I last spoke to her on the phone. I believe you two must've met up by now, and I'm sure she won't pick up my calls anymore, so it would be great if you can tell me how she is at the moment. She's not too badly injured, I hope?"

"..."

"Ah, I nearly forgot. There was a woman together with your dear kouhai when you were at their meeting place, right? Do you want to know anything about her? I can tell you all about her that I currently have information of. For free, if you'd like, as an apology for putting your kouhai through all that trouble."

"..."

"Anything at all? I'm serious about that deal, you know. And I'm sure, the way you are right now, you'd want to know who exactly you're dealing with so that you at least have an idea of who it is that's ruined the peaceful life you've always been looking for."

"...Flea."

At last Shizuo speaks. Izaya draws in a breath and stops right where he is.

"What is it?"

"There's just one thing I want to ask. Before everything."

"Ask away," Izaya replies, with clear and full understanding of what Shizuo meant by the word 'everything'.

"...Why?" Shizuo murmurs darkly. "Why...did you do this?"

"You should already know by now. You, Celty, Shinra – you should all already know," Izaya replies, lifting his eyes to the moon for the second time that night. Nobody is there to see the expression on his face as he says, straightforwardly and without as much as a blush, "Because I love humans. That's all there is to it."

 _And that's all it'll ever be._

He hears a sigh that sounds like a low, raspy growl over the phone.

"It really won't ever happen, huh," Shizuo mumbles. "That one percent. It's...never going to happen. Right?"

"Right," Izaya agrees, chuckling. "It won't."

"…And you know that I won't lose… Right?"

"That's still up for debate. After all, I don't plan on losing, myself."

"…I see," Shizuo murmurs.

Then a cloud of silence drifts past, shrouding the rooftop and the conversation with an air of tension and apprehension, before it lifts itself and departs from the scene as Shizuo's voice can be heard from the speaker.

"...Izaya."

"...What is it?"

It almost feels like deja vu, like a repeat of the earlier exchange is about to take place again. But Izaya knows better than that, and continues sending his gaze to the bright, circular moon that's slowly being swallowed by the darkness as he awaits Shizuo's response.

It comes as suddenly as it ends.

"...Goodbye."

Then the line cuts off. And all Izaya can hear now is the constant beep ringing in one of his ears, and a sorrowful neigh coming from a distance.

He lowers his gaze to the rest of the city, and nods to himself with his phone still pressed against his ear.

"...Ahh," he mutters. "Goodbye."

Izaya ends the call.

Not long after he's visited by someone he both least and most expects, and when she departs without a single word of acknowledgement of having remembered anything about him and he sends her off in the exact same way.

°•○ ○•°

"I thought...if it was someone like you, I would definitely be able to experience it for myself. Being in love and being loved in return, I mean."

With eyes that are blazing, glowing red, Shinra turns to the bespectacled woman standing before him and smiles.

"Mm. Maybe you're right," he says. "If it had been you I met first, maybe I would've fallen in love with you instead. But you know what, Kujiragi-san?"

Here Shinra pauses to raise his head to where the sky is supposed to be.

"Celty, you see... She's my everything. If it wasn't for Celty, I wouldn't be the person I am today. It's because of her that I am who I am, be it the past, present or future. So if you say you're in love with the me who is able to love even monsters, you'll have to thank Celty for that – because without her, there wouldn't be the me that's standing here right now."

"...So you're saying you can't love me because you didn't meet me first," the woman, Kujiragi Kasane, mutters as she folds her arms, giving Shinra an icy look despite the nature of the conversation.

Shinra, shaking his head, replies, "No, that isn't what I meant. What I mean is, even if I did manage to meet you first, I don't think you'd be able to make me the person I am now like Celty can. And in any case, even if I were to accept you, I know my beloved won't. So, if I may be blunt, Kujiragi-san, there's no way I'd ever fall in love with you regardless."

The woman blinks, slowly.

"I take it that you're rejecting me, then?"

"You can take it that way, yup."

"...I see."

Kujiragi takes in a long breath, and releases it.

"So I've just been rejected," she says.

Shinra doesn't offer any words of comfort, and he doesn't even as he observes the woman's eyes turn glassy when she looks straight at him again.

"May I ask you something, Kishitani Shinra?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"If that monster... If Celty Sturluson is what you claim to be your everything, then where does that leave Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya?"

Bright scarlet eyes widen a little at the unexpected question, but Shinra recovers from his surprise as quickly as one blinks, and laughs somewhat sheepishly.

"You're quite something, Kujiragi-san. Digging around to find out about me and Celty should be pretty easy, but I didn't expect that you would know about Shizuo-kun and Orihara-kun."

"It's not that difficult," Kujiragi replies, though she's betrayed by the slight red dusting on her own cheeks at the praise. "Don't forget, you've been cut and connected to Saika not too long ago. As Saika's original wielder, I am able to sense how you were able to break free from the curse. Even as we speak, I can sense your love suppressing Saika's own. Besides, I considered Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya to be some of the most troublesome obstacles to my plan, so naturally I spent some effort in looking into them."

"Ahhh I see, so that's how it is. ...Hm? But if that's the case then wouldn't you already know the answer to your own question, Kujiragi-san?"

"Though I can sense it, yes, I am unable to discern the exact extent of your feelings."

Kujiragi pauses, casting Shinra an intent look, before she continues, with a somewhat heavy heart and a sense of resentful curiosity:

"I can only postulate that it must be quite significant if it's able to hold back a curse like Saika's."

°•○ ○•°

 _...I can't lose her._

That is the first thought that comes to Shinra's mind when he stepped into the conversation and saw the most important woman of his life holding onto Shooter's reins with one hand and her head in another. And that desire grows ever stronger when she directs her attention to him and Shizuo and claims to have never met either of them.

It's not true, of course. Shinra can tell by just one look that Celty is lying. Shizuo isn't as confident, but relaxes regardless when Shinra flashes him a grin.

"Don't worry. I won't make us lose her."

Shizuo gives him a pensive look, before nodding and taking a step back, both hands in his pockets. Conversely Shinra takes a few steps forward, and voices out what he knows Celty isn't telling. She denies it, as he expected her to, so he keeps repeating himself with the hopes that she would cave at some point.

"Please just drop the act, dearie. It's not convincing anybody. Not me, at least," Shinra insists, just as he has been for the last couple of minutes where he and Celty are currently engaged in a back-forth argument and battle of stubbornness that Shinra is clearly winning.

『【Enough.】』the head speaks, a look of displeasure crossing her features. At the same moment, her body tugs on Shooter's reins, earning a sad neigh from the headless horse. 『【We are done here, human. Whatever your relationship is to this body of mine, it is no longer valid. I sincerely hope, with my departure from your hometown, that you can all forget about the trouble that transpired here due to my presence, and return to your normal everyday lives.】』

"Celty, wait—" "Oi, Celty...!"

『【...Ah, that's right.】』

Seemingly paying no heed to both Shinra and Shizuo's calls, the Dullahan turns and fixes her gaze on the group of people that have gathered on that rooftop.

『【Before my arrival here, I was entrusted with the task of delivering a message. From a man who supposedly employed my body as his trusted courier.】』

"...Huh?"

"A...message?"

As the people present are left to ponder about what it might be, Celty says, her slightly distorted, echoey voice coupled with the content of that message adding even more tension and disturbance to the current atmosphere:

『【"Farewell", did he say, as he raised his hand and waved, bidding his goodbye. "This shall be your last task, Courier-san. When you see a man with brown hair and glasses and wearing a white doctor's coat, please help me deliver that very same sentiment to him." ...That is all.】』

"Wait... You don't mean—"

『【Now I, too, shall take my leave.】』Celty says as she pulls Shooter's reins once more, cutting Shizuo off. 『【So long, humans. Forget not what I have requested of you.】』

"Wait, Celty—"

The Dullahan races off into the sky.

Her departure leaves many in stunned silence until Shizuo grits his teeth.

"Dammit... She didn't have to leave...! All the shit that happened… It wasn't even her fault!

"...But this is what Celty wants," Shinra murmurs, looking down on both of his open palms before slowly clenching them. _I can't lose her._ "And if she herself believes that she'll feel better if she left instead of staying, despite knowing exactly what that means to us, then we have no choice but to support her decision."

Shizuo turns and looks at Shinra as if he's just gone crazy.

"You're...okay with this?" Shizuo asks, bewildered. "I mean, I get that we oughtta be supporting her but...this is just too damn sudden. How are you okay with this?"

"I'm not," Shinra admits with a weak chuckle.

"Then..."

"I'm not okay with it. Whatever it is, I can't have her leaving. Even though I understand that I should be supporting her, I still want her to remain by my side. That's why I think...no, that's why I know that she's going to hate me for what I'm about to do to her."

Shinra raises his head and meets Shizuo's eyes.

Shizuo stares at him for a minute or so, and then as a grin emerges on his face he grabs Shinra by the waist and hauls him over his shoulder. A couple of surprised gasps and yelps can be heard coming from behind them.

The fortissimo of Ikebukuro steps backward all the way to the opposite edge of the rooftop. Shinra, noticing this, can't help but break into one of the brightest smiles he's ever made in his life even though a part of him has been expecting this all this while.

"You're really planning on doing this?"

"Yeah. If I don't, there's no one there to catch you when you fall. And when people fall from heights like that, they die." Shizuo pauses. "And I'm not planning on having anyone die because of me. Not now, not ever. That's not who I am."

Shinra blinks. "Shizuo-kun..."

"Besides," Shizuo continues, his smile widening, "it wouldn't seem right to send just you flying."

Shinra considers this for a brief moment, and laughs.

"So let's fly together, then," he says. "The three of us, together."

He adds that as almost like an afterthought, and though he's currently filled with happiness and excitement he says it with a hint of melancholy, a touch of sadness and desire. But in such a pivotal juncture of his life, Shinra buries it all away and focuses his entire being and attention to what is happening right at this moment, and what is about to happen in the very near future.

For a split second Shizuo's smile mirrors Shinra's layered tone, before he takes in a sharp breath and starts sprinting.

°•○ ○•°

Celty Sturluson is not a human being.

She is what has been described in books and spoken tales as a figure of myth and legend; a Dullahan, a member of the Unseelie Court of faefolk who is said to roam the land of Ireland, and going around and splashing blood on doors of the homes of people who are destined to die soon. Some even claim that Dullahans are, in fact, the shadows of Valkyries that have fallen down to earth, the shells of who they used to be but without their memories of having served in Odin's court as the guides to the gates of Valhalla.

But Celty does not care about whether such claims are true, neither does she care about who she used to be. Though she is a Dullahan herself, such things are no longer of concern to her, for she has decided a long time ago that she will not let her past define the present her. For years ago as she rode down the wall of a skyscraper, and again when she fell from the sky together with her loved ones, she had already declared to herself and to the world: _I am here. I certainly exist here. That is a fact. That is something that I can be sure of._

 _I am here._

And here she is surrounded by people she can call her family, friends, lovers. People who love and accept her all the same even though she does not rightfully belong in their world; even though her presence alone has caused them heaps and mountains of trouble that nearly destroyed the city they live in. And for that, Celty is eternally grateful beyond what mere words can describe.

So if someone asks her about what the myths say about her or the current whereabouts of her head, Celty doesn't care. All she wants now is to remain by the sides of the people she loves, and of the people who love her. To enjoy a peaceful, uneventful yet fun and enriching life with the most important people in her life.

Celty knows that her loved ones think the same way. And that is why, while they are indeed on the road of enjoying that life they've always dreamed of having, they haven't yet attained it. And as things stand right now, they probably won't.

But even still, Celty is happy, as she often tells herself she ought to be feeling. The chains of her past are gone, there are people all around her who accept and love her for who she is, and there's no longer any trouble that can potentially threaten the safety of those she loves and cares about.

And so, even as she dashes down the expressway with a chain of police motorcycles trailing behind her, Celty stretches her arms out wide and basks in the warmth of the sun pouring its light onto her entire being, the sensation of the wind blowing hard against her entire frame. Then she leaps into the sky with Shooter, her shadows forming a pair of eagle-like wings that spread as far and wide as the depth of the joy in her heart, and soars her way home.

.

.

°•○ _Epilogue_ ○•°

When Izaya next awakens, he awakens to the fragrance of fresh flowers, the pleasant scent of pure organic fruit, the dull constant pain throbbing all over his body, and the sounds of people whispering.

"—zaya-san needs his rest! The doctors said so! And what are you doing here, Mr Bartender sir? Weren't you the one who threw that vending machine that caused Izaya-san to end up here in the first place?"

"That's, um... Well... It's been so long since I last saw the flea that I got all excited and my hand just...slipped."

"Aww man, I want to say that it was really really cool, Mr Bartender sir, but Izaya-san got hurt so I don't think I should be saying that."

"...You just did."

"Eh? Did I? Oh no, oh no, will Izaya-san get mad at me?"

"...Don't worry. …He won't get mad over that."

"I-in any case, we're not here to cause him any trouble, I promise. We're just here to pay him a visit, say a few words and then we'll be on our way. Is that okay with you?"

"Hrm... It shouldn't be a problem. Besides, it would do Izaya-dono some good to be reminded of his embarrassing past. We shall take our leave first, then. If you require any assistance, we will be waiting outside."

"Thank you very much."

"No need for that. Now come on, you two. Let's give these young men and dear lady some room to enjoy their youthful springtime."

"…Yes."

"Spring? But isn't it autumn, Uncle..."

The voices belonging to an elderly man and two children – one boy, and one girl – fade in the distance as the door slides open and closed.

"Well then, now that we're finally alone."

A voice Izaya recognises as his middle school acquaintance says, in normal speaking volume.

"Hey. You can stop pretending to be asleep now, Izaya." Then he adds with a laugh, "It's a surprise why you even bother when we all know what you've been doing anyway."

Izaya waits for a few seconds before opening one eye, looking sideways to confirm who is currently present in his private ward, and can't help but smile as he pushes himself to sit upright.

"Killjoy as always," he chuckles. "Just as I thought, you haven't changed at all, have you Shinra?"

The underground doctor beams, looking proud of himself for some reason.

"...Flea."

At the mention of a distantly familiar nickname, Izaya turns his head in the direction of the baritone voice that he hasn't heard in a while. The corners of his lips curl in further.

"Hey, Shizu-chan. I see you're doing fine as well."

"...You're alive," Shizuo murmurs.

"Yes, I heard you loud and clear the first time. Which happened to be the same time you were yelling my name and hurling that vending machine from blocks and streets away," Izaya adds in a humourless tone.

Shizuo looks mildly apologetic and expresses it verbally as he sets the fruit basket and bouquet of flowers – a mixture of white, red and yellow camellias, Izaya recognises – on the hospital bed tabletop.

At that moment, Izaya feels a light tingling spreading across his abdomen, and instinctively turns in another direction as he runs a hand over his stomach. The screen of a PDA model he hasn't seen the owner using before fills his vision.

[We're glad that you're alive.] It reads. [We kept searching, these few years. I tried to use my connection to the shadow to find you, but... Maybe you've been too far away for me to sense you.]

Izaya smiles wryly. "Is that so, hmm… Well, I didn't want to be seen by a monster, after all, so I made sure to get as far away from Ikebukuro as I could."

[…In that case I'm even more surprised that you kept the shadow. I didn't think you would, but... Shizuo told me to have a little bit more faith in you. Around one percent, to be exact.]

Izaya stares at the last few words on the screen and then almost chokes on his own saliva as he bursts out laughing, ignoring the pricks of pain that accompany it.

"But that— That has nothing to do with what we were originally talking about, Shizu-chan!"

"Shuddup, I know that," Shizuo grumbles, scratching the back of his head. "But I thought it just...fit, y'know?"

Izaya continues snickering. But when it's clear that he's not intent on discussing the topic any further, nobody prompts him to. Instead, Shinra takes a couple of steps closer to the bedside, specifically to a particular device that's set and positioned neatly against the wall, and runs a finger over the handle.

"So..." Shinra begins again. "How long will you be staying in Ikebukuro for?"

By that point Izaya has already stopped laughing. Eyeing Shinra's hand on the handle of the device with vague suspicion, he answers with one of his usual smiles, "Not very long. I was only making a quick stop because of some business to attend to, so my initial plan was to stay for one day. But now it seems that I have little choice but to extend my stay until I'm allowed to leave."

Shizuo makes an apologetic face again.

[But still, just for one day? Why not stay a while longer?] Celty asks.

"I don't really have anything to do with Ikebukuro anymore," Izaya answers, pulling his shoulders into a shrug. "The world is much bigger than just one city, you know? There are more places to be, more humans to see. I can't keep coming back to a place I've already had my fill of."

"...We understand," Shinra responds, resting a hand on Shizuo's shoulder before the blonde can protest. Then, with a small smile, he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, being careful not to sit too close to where Izaya's feet are, and says, "But just remember, we'll always be here. So if you need anything, even things like having a sudden craving for hotpot in the middle of the night, you know where to find us."

"Don't count on it," Izaya says with a lively laugh.

[Well...] Celty begins typing. [Since we're all here, why not take a picture? We haven't had one together before and who knows how long it'll be before we see this idiot again?]

"Ohh, great thinking my love! It's about time we replaced our family photo hanging by the dinner table!"

"I'll get the phone camera ready."

"...You want to take a picture of me while I'm in the hospital?" Izaya says, shaking his head in a seemingly exasperated manner.

But he doesn't refute the "idiot" comment. And neither does he correct them when they call it a family photo.

Instead he simply looks at the camera, and smiles as refreshingly as the sky saying hello to the world it watches over.

* * *

A/N: To the person I was classmates with for only one year, the person who continued having lunch with me everyday in school, the person who introduced me to Devil Survivor and hence to the world of Shin Megami Tensei and Persona, the person who introduced me to the world of Durarara!, the person who encouraged me to pick up writing again, and the person who still sticks by me and calls me her friend and gives me such wonderful presents so often all these years – this is for you. 21+1 scenes with a twist, for your special 21st. Happy birthday, my dear friend.

To all my readers: yes, this fic is basically a collection of scenes from the anime and novels, but with a considerable, personal twist to them. Specifically a Shinra/Celty/Shizuo/Izaya OT4 spin. I tried to do it without referring to the original scenes to make sure it deviates as far as possible from the original while still retaining some sort of familiarity to them ahaha. Why this relationship though dates all the way back to a conversation I had with my friend – who I wrote this for – where we were sharing our thoughts about that particular OT4 and why it would be such a happy and heartwarming and homely relationship. So my initial plan was to write a fluffy established OT4 fic describing their new everyday life in an apartment together, but then I remembered who I'm writing it for and decided '…Nah' and then I went with the idea of a developing OT4 that's supposed to be on the road to happiness if not for Izaya ruining it. I originally wanted to end the story with the last Celty scene and with a heavy implication that Izaya did not survive the trip to the hospital because of how stupidly stubborn he is. And Celty would know because…shadow connection. Yeah. So it'd be a developing OT4 that's eternally on the path of development and with no way of actually realising it. (Eventually I changed the ending and added in the epilogue after the same friend told me that she bought me souvenirs from Japan hahahaha I'm so nice ^_^)

Well, all that aside, there's a lot I can say about the individual scenes, like the meaning behind Izaya's lunch box and what is being unsaid in that mutual punch scene with Shinra and Celty and why that's the turning point in the OT4 relationship, as well as the threads of themes/motifs tying the scenes together, but the A/N is getting a bit too long so I'll just talk a little about the epilogue instead since that warrants some explanation on my end. I was reading Izayake (the Izaya Sunset novel) while working on this fic, and I love it so much I just had to reference it somehow, and the epilogue seemed like the perfect time to do it. So, yes, the unknown characters mentioned are actually the new novel characters, but to refrain from spoiling too much I left their names out. And that device by the wall… I think it's pretty obvious if you've seen the cover art of the novel, but I don't think everyone reading this has seen it, so I didn't put in the exact name to the device either. I don't want my fic to spoil the element of surprise ^ ^;

Also, I apologise for any OOCness. I know it's inevitable, but I hope it wasn't too bad that I ruined the characters themselves.

Thank you all so much for your time and patience in reading this terribly long oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it! :)


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